2006 Robert Frost Youth Poet Program Winning Poets and Poems

2006 Robert Frost Youth Poet

Hay Fever
Muscles clenching as hay swiftly flies
Dust and dirt caked in my eyes
Stab it.
Grab it.
A job well done is half begun
Tomorrow I will do more before
the rising sun.
As I walk in the silence of the empty barn,
My throbbing footsteps echo, but do me no harm.
Tomorrow is another day
Through the birch trees, the barn
awaits for me to toss the hay.

Belknap County Poet

Farming in the Granite State
It’s the crack of dawn
farmers are already awake, dressed
and heading out to tend to their crops.
The early morning dew
is still on the ground.
The crisp cold air
is nipping the farmers’ faces.
Breaking through the soil with their plows
preparing it for their crop.
Planting the seeds just as the sun rises high
above them.
Chapped hands, aching back, and blistered feet
the farmers don’t care.
They are determined to get their corn planted
and off to a growing start.
The last seed is planted and watered,
the sun has just set
behind the mountains.
Time to get some rest
for tomorrow’s battle
of getting the job done
before another sun sets.

Belknap County Honorable Mention

New Hampshire
The wind whispers by like someone’s trying to tell you a secret.
Trees grow left and right like a rainforest,
hiking to find your way out.
Birds working like crazy building their nest for their young.
Seeing a blue jay, a chipmunk, and a squirrel scurry about
gathering food for the winter.
Having the time of your life playing in Lake Winnepesaukee.
Speed boats shoot by like a cheetah chasing his prey.
Skiing down the bumpy rough ski slopes of Gunstock Mountain.
Seeing the wonderful sights of New Hampshire.

Cheshire County Poet

The Woodcutter
Through the forest marches The Woodcutter.
His calloused hand holds a solid axe.
His boots crunch through the golden leaves.
The forest seems to stand still at His presence.
The Trees stop rustling their leaves,
The Squirrel stops his constant scolding,
The Raccoon stares quietly at Him
As He marches by.
Suddenly He stops
At the foot of The Oak Tree.
The Tree trembles with fear and respect
As The Woodcutter raises His axe.
He swiftly swings it toward The Oak Tree.
Clang! A shower of splinters sprays across the forest.
Clang! Clang! The Oak Tree teeters.
“Tiimmbbeerrr!” calls The Woodcutter,
His voice echoing in the forest.
The Oak Tree mightily crashes to the forest floor.
The animals scatter.
The Woodcutter lifts up the Tree
With His strong, sunburned arms.
He places it gently on His ox cart.
Finally, axe in hand, The Woodcutter
Marches home.

Cheshire County Honorable Mention

Work in New Hampshire
Chop wood very fast.
Sweaty muscles popping out,
Sawing back and forth.
Logs going down fast.
Logs crashing into each other,
Tumbling down the stream.
People pushing them.
Going down to the sawmills,
To be cut up straight.
Men cutting up wood,
Smelling the sap, hear the roaring,
All the sawdust floats.
Going to homes,
By many horse-driven carts.
Building houses strong.
Now, they have machines.
Now they have power for work,
To make tools perform.

Coos County Poet

Old Fashioned Jobs
Once a long time ago,
there were different jobs I’ve come to know.
Men worked hard and long,
plowing their land all day long.
Apple picking under the blue sky,
all day men reached very high.
Sitting under an apple tree as they gaze,
it hypnotized them into a deep daze.
The crystal rivers which trout do swim,
fishermen fished all day under a tree limb.
From green grass to white snow,
From a shovel to a gardening hoe,
New Hampshire has changed from old jobs to new,
To me it’s still the same, but maybe not to you.

Coos County Honorable Mention

Great Workers
Today, and a long time ago, New Hampshire were brave and know . . .
We are the Granite State, and we are grand and great.
New Hampshire’s the place where we have farms, and our workers
build them with old time charms.
The leaves may ripple, and the branches may tear, but that does not matter
because we have workers that care.
We have firemen that help us survive, and we have lifeguards to teach us to dive.
We have people who work at stores, and we have moms who make samores.
We have forest men, to take care of nature’s fresh, beautiful den.
We have teachers to get kids smart, and we have mechanics to get the car to start.
We have so many workers that are great, that’s because we are the Granite State!

Grafton County Poet

Nathalie Ferneau
Cynthia Williamson, teacher
Crossroads Academy
Lyme

Logging
The elm tree crashes to the ground.
Some one calls “Step up Jack.”
The giant work horse tows the elm.
What will happen to the tree?
Perhaps it will be a chair, or a dresser.
But the horse does not know this.
He will placidly drag the tree
However long he needs to.
Every day the huge horse
Works at logging the forest.
Even when the snow blankets
The trees like a quilt, he works
He is a real logging horse!
From dawn to dusk he labors
He is ever faithful to his master.
Now, the work horse
Is replaced by tractors.
Even so, the logger and his horse,
Will be remembered.

Grafton County Honorable Mention

Logging
Click, Click,
I hear my horse’s harness clicking,
his breath comes out as steam,
his hooves make large deep holes as he pulls the logs,
My back is aching,
My cheeks are red and rosy,
The snow falls thickly through the forest as I walk,
I see a light shining in my house ahead warm and inviting
I can almost feel my warm bed,
as I lead my horse to the stable my eyelids heavy,
and sleep almost upon me.

Merrimack County Poet

Raking Leaves
Off of a maple tree fall
Leaves of every shape and size,
Flying
through
the
air, Intricate designs,
Tiny as a hair.
Each tiny little leaf would take,
Hours to describe.
Each one’s a mini puzzle piece,
Of New Hampshire’s pride.

Merrimack County Honorable Mention

Work In New Hampshire
In the early 1600s
ships were what they made,
but since the 1680s
shipbuilding has seemed to fade.
Then in the 1700s
the blacksmiths came to town,
for them the power of molding
metal with fire had been found.
If you lived in the early 1900s
you probably would work at a mill
but even if you worked real hard,
one dollar would be your bill.
In the 1950s
lots of people cut wood
and with that axe
man, were they good!!
Now in the present day
you may be a businessman
or even a teacher,
maybe a baseball player or preacher.
What’s really very clear
is that work has changed a lot
people have tried to make our
states a better place by working hard
and giving all they got.

Rockingham County Poet

We are Workers
Working in the pasture among cows and hay,
peaceful, quiet chewing sounds munching on their way,
I am the farmer this is my workspace,
I am the farmer and this is my favorite place—
My glorious items sell there in towns where money lays
my hat sits snugly on my head protecting me from sunny rays,
I am the merchant this is my workspace,
I am the merchant and this is my favorite place—
Working in my small hot shed I am the youngest of brothers
this is my work and yes it is sweeter than most others,
I am the maple sugarer this is my workspace,
I am the maple sugarer and this is my favorite place—
Pressing, pressing all day long things really couldn’t be better,
and I can certainly help you out if you’re looking to write a letter,
I am the paper maker this is my workspace,
I am the paper maker and this is my favorite place—
All of these workers love their jobs and do them very well,
these jobs aren’t easy—no they’re not—but all of them are swell,
they are workers that’s their workspace,
they are workers and that’s their favorite place—

Rockingham County Honorable Mention

Distracted Chipmunk
A taut chipmunk
busily scavenging for food
looked beneath him
and saw the pristine snow
resting like a kitten below him.
He looked above him
and saw the lustrous moon
watching him
standing out like fireworks
in the dreary, murky
sky.
As the clouds started to float
and cover the moon
as a blanket would a baby,
the alert little chipmunk,
spotted an acorn on the ground.
He was thinking of storing
the acorn in his burrow
because winter had already arrived,
but he noticed four trees
standing tall when everything else is
flat.
Two trees wore long dresses
like ladies at a dance
and two stood as bare as a cob
with all the corn eaten up.
Suddenly,
the chipmunk hears something
when the whole world is silent
A gentle swishhh
rings loudly in the chipmunk’s ear.
A soft tip tap
echoes explosively
in the chipmunk’s head.
In a heartbeat
the chipmunk vanishes
into his burrow,
and the whole world is
silent again.
When the chipmunk
looks around in his burrow
he notices
that he didn’t have
enough food for winter.

Strafford County Poet

Jobs in New Hampshire
There are many around,
If someone has enough money,
They might want to build a
Hotel like the Hilton,
With a water view in Milton,
Some people from Hampton Falls,
Might like a job answering phone calls,
Then in Lancaster,
There lives a forecaster,
If your care dies in Bow,
You can keep someone in business
by calling for a tow,
There is a boy in Derry,
Whose dad works on a ferry,
There is a girl in Center Harbor,
That has a grandfather who is a barber,
There is a doctor in Rye,
That tries to save people so
They won’t die,
A lady from Weirs Beach,
Really like to teach,
So whatever you want to do,
There is some job out there
for you.

Sullivan County Poet

Molly Adams
Susan Pullen, teacher
Plainfield School
Meriden
469-3250

In a Place so New
In a place where I traveled to
in a place so new
in a place where the Indians roam
I herd my sheep, for that is all I have,
in a place I must now call home
In a place so new,
where the trees are so beautiful
and where the wildlife thrives
Where the only sounds are the wind through the trees
and the singing birds
and the soft thump of my boots.
In this great place
This beautiful place
In this place so . . .
new

Sullivan County Honorable Mention

Emily Morison
Fran Hills, teacher
Plainfield School
Meriden
469-3250

1749 in New Hampshire
On my farm
Of life and crops
I pick the corn
And cut the hay
On this hot
Summer day
Here in Dover
Far away
From my home land
Feeding the cows
And herding the sheep
And finally going to
Sleep